


But baby, I'm so horny

by Druekee



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blood, Chains, Competition, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Dry Humping, Food Kink, Food Sex, Frotting, Hate Sex, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Pain, Painplay, Public Display of Affection, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Romance, Sadism, Spanking, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Druekee/pseuds/Druekee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of every one-shot romantic/sexual fic I've written for Metalocalypse!</p><p>No pairing occurs more than once! Also including 2 fics I've never uploaded ANYWHERE before! Unsurprisingly enough, 7/8 chapters are porn. (Every chapter will have it's specific warnings listed at the top- so please read! Some are kind of disturbing/uncomfortable.) </p><p> </p><p>I really love these boys, and even explored a few relationships/fetishes that I hadn't seen much in the fandom previously. I hope you all enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Charles/Pickles: Bad Boy

**Author's Note:**

> (Written May 28, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Charles/Pickles  
> Word Count: 1,485  
> Warnings: Spanking, Punishment, Drinking, Breaking and Entering (lol), Masturbation, Awkward Boners, No Sex
> 
> Summary: Pickles is a bad boy. Charles is having a rough day and isn't going to let anything slide.

Nervous sweat drizzled across Pickles’ brow, his eyes crisp and watchful. He was standing in the doorway of Charles’ suite, his eyes raking over every surface, trying to find his target item. It wasn’t just any item; it was a bottle of hoarded, super rare scotch. Charles loved the stuff, and Pickles was craving it right about now. He had already checked his office, but the place was completely void of anything too nice. He just had some of that “helps me get through the day” stuff, which wasn’t really good enough for Pickles. Really, he could’ve just gotten one of the Klokateers to go order him some, but he wanted it right now and he wanted the fancy shit straight from some little refinery in Scotland. And what better place to get that shit fast than Charles’ personal suite, better known as breaking and entering at its finest. 

Fully stepping in and shutting the door behind him, Pickles walked around the clean and modern suite, trying to find a place where one would store fine alcohol. Eventually, he gave up on this whole “it should be visible” notion that he had somehow acquired and began opening up the little cabinets in Charles’ living room. Through his searching, he found a rather interesting armoire next to a fancy armchair and opened it. His eyes twinkling like a fat kid at Halloween, Pickles gazed lavishly at the small collection of scotch and other whiskies, his mouth watering slightly. The view was fantastic, and reaching in to grab a rather intricately designed bottle, Pickles was suddenly very glad he went here first. 

Knocking his head back and taking an experimental swig, Pickles coughed slightly at the burnt cork flavor, and quickly took another sip, wincing at the leather taste. Then, he took his third sip and sighed happily, pleased with the smoothness and delicious feeling of the fine liquid rushing down his throat. He almost considered getting a glass out and filling it with ice to dilute the liquid some, but decided that was going a bit too far. He would deal with the strong flavor until he got back to his room and did it himself. Taking another few drinks, Pickles rocked his head back and sighed luxuriously, feeling the high from the alcohol begin to incase his being. This was some of the strong stuff, and even though the drummer took longer to get drunk than most, he was still affected. And it was fucking amazing right now. 

A door opening and the sound of steps walking towards him startled Pickles out of his scotch-induced reverie. He froze on the spot, only moving his head to see what the noise was. So help him God if Charles had come home-

“Pickles, what are doing in my suite?” Charles asked in an annoyed voice, a finger and a thumb pinched at the gap between his two eyes, pressing against his nose. He then opened his eyes, staring at Pickles’ still frozen form, gasping slightly as he noticed the bottle between Pickles’ hands. Charles then felt himself becoming odd levels of annoyed and frustrated.

“Today, I woke up to Skwisgaar and Toki’s sudden bout of mischief, the fire alarms were rather loud at 4 AM. I couldn’t get back to sleep, and was at a several hour long meeting until 4:30 today, where we discussed new ideas for the album that we have to get demos ready by next month. I then had another meeting discussing terms with the publishers, and it was a fucking pain in the ass. I just got out of that 5 minutes ago. Then, I get home, planning to get a nice drink of scotch. Maybe get to bed early, but I find you here, drinking from my favorite fucking bottle like its water. What am I supposed to do about that, huh?” Charles asked, his voice calm but straining at every expletive he used. Pickles did start moving, but his eyes became scared and hand lowered the bottle down to his side. He already knew that, if caught, he would be screwed, but Pickles had no idea that Charles was going to get this pissed at him. He was actually really frightened for his life right about now, even if he didn’t really commit a felony or anything. Charles could be really fucking scary, even if his expression was just the same blank state as usual. Pickles began backing up, his eyes becoming wild with fear.

“Whuh... What are you gonna do about it?” Pickles asked, his voice slightly rebellious but expression frightened and questioning. Charles smiled a little bit, eyes shaded with anger. He then looked up, giving Pickles a frustratingly exasperated look.

“Well, I’m going to punish you,” Charles said simply, his gaze locked on Pickles as he walked towards him ominously. Pickles chuckled a bit, scared and also curious as to what Charles could possibly do to him. Charles suddenly grabbed Pickles by the collar, dragging him behind himself as they walked towards one of the fancy sofas. Charles promptly let go of Pickles and began undoing his pants, pushing them off Pickles’ hips. Pickles stuttered and started yelling at him to stop.

“Hey! Jest what the hell do you think YOU’RE doin’?!” Pickles yelled, fumbling around as Charles sat down on the couch with his arms spread around the top, his expression hard and angry.

“Bend over on my lap. I’m going to beat you like my father always did,” he said back, a hand gesturing at Pickles to hurry up. Pickles suddenly felt a misplaced pang of guilt but did as he was told, a little bit drunk and little bit guilty. He was still pissed as hell and really only hoped that Charles wouldn’t bruise him up too bad. Maybe he would realize how weird and awkward this was, especially considering how they were both grown men. 

Interestingly enough, Charles didn’t pull out a belt or a paddle or anything else; he just shifted Pickles slightly on his lap, unintentionally (or intentionally?) shifting the drummer’s cock in the gap between his legs, so that if Pickles were to be shifted from the force of the spanks he would end up grinding himself against Charles’ thigh in a fantastic way. But Pickles wouldn’t know this until later. For now, Charles pulled back Pickles’ underwear slightly to expose more skin and gave an experimental smack, eliciting a groan of pain from Pickles immediately. Charles knew how to spank. 

The mood was tense, and the air full of Pickles’ painful cries. Charles suddenly picked up the pace, smacking Pickles in that way that made his cock rub against his legs in a way that Charles knew would drive him crazy. If he could humiliate the man too, then that would be even sweeter. The way Charles gripped him was also pretty erotic, his hand cupping the inner side of Pickles’ ass before pulling back and hitting him in the most sensitive part, over and over and over.

It got to a point where Pickles was actually pretty hard, his dick grinding against Charles’ suit covered leg in a way that Charles was becoming increasingly aware of. It was really, really erotic to the businessman. It also was not how his father used to punish him, but this was much more satisfying to him. Really, he shouldn’t have been doing this in the first place, but he could start to hear Pickles whimper and his groans turn into moans of delight. Giving somebody pleasure was something Charles was less used to, it wasn’t a part of his daily routine like agonizing death was. Actually, it was pretty nice. 

As Charles could hear Pickles begin to reach his peak, he stopped. Pushing Pickles off him in the most graceful way he knew how, he stood up and grabbed the bottle of scotch that Pickles had been holding the entire time, the stubborn fucker. He took a hearty swig or two before looking back at Pickles who was still breathing heavily and standing up with his pants now resting on one arm. 

“You can leave now. We don’t have to mention this ever again,” Charles said, staring at the cute little tip of Pickles’ penis stick out of the waistband of his undies. Pickles nodded, out of breath, and walked out of the room without even putting his pants back on. Once out of the room, Pickles leaned against the door, sighing as he glanced down at his all-too-erect penis. This would be hell if he had to walk all way back to his room like this. Casually gripping his dick in one hand, Pickles tried to finish himself off as quickly as possible. And Charles, on the other side of the door, tried his damndest to pretend that he couldn’t hear Pickles get his rocks off over there at all.


	2. Nathan/Sqwisgaar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Written December 3, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Nathan/Skwisgaar  
> Word Count: 1,075  
> Warnings: Nudity, Exhibitionism (to a certain degree), Kissing Contest, No Sex
> 
> Summary: Who's the better kisser?

The atmosphere was a slightly euphoric drunken jumble of slurred words and general horniness that transcended all logical thought and reasoning. It didn’t quite start off like that, what with them being decently typical up until Pickles spilled tequila in the hot tub and sparked a hilarious shit-storm of pouring various alcoholic beverages into the tub- without emptying it first- and then drinking said liquid. It was a late night, and they were bored. What more can be said. 

“So, asch I was schaaaaaying,” Murderface said, flipping his hand in a completely drunken gesture, eyes misty but ridiculously serious. “I bet Schwischgaar can’t kissch for SCHIT, and neither can Nathan.” At that, Pickles immediately started laughing, downing a fruity drink and giving the men in question curious gazes, clearly asking ‘what are you gonna say about that?’ with his eyes. Skwisgaar chuckled, only slightly amused, while Nathan practically roared in rage. 

“Ands why ams you says dat?” Skwisgaar asked, his ‘ess’ noises exaggerated to pretty much sound like a snake, his eyes half-lidded and lips pulled in a smirk. Nathan nodded his head at that, giving Murderface a demanding look. “’Causche all you two ever do is FUCK ‘schlutsch,” Murderface responded with, his acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Skwisgaar ‘pff’d and Nathan responded for both of them. 

“Even though we actually do kiss a lot of our groupies, we also actually fuck them, unlike you,” Nathan said, shrugging. “Besides, how should you know? You haven’t kissed either of us,” he continued, laughing a little afterwards. Murderface groaned at the accusation, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

“Well, uh… that’sch gay…” he said, not denying that he hadn’t been thinking about just that subject pretty damn frequently, with both of the boys in question no less. Pickles giggled under his breath, about to say something when Skwisgaar accidentally slipped his ego and said something that completely changed the course of events for that night. 

“Ja… but who ams the betters?” he said, giving Nathan a curious look, just watching him to see how he would take the almost-offer. Little did he know, Nathan wasn’t even thinking that hard about it. “Well, me, obviously,” Nathan said, giving him a slightly proud look, to which Skwisgaar responded with a poised eyebrow raising and a small smirk. This was... turning into a little game now, wasn’t it? Skwisgaar had to admit it interested and kinda excited him. Admittedly, Nathan was a really attractive man. A man Skwisgaar could totally see himself making out with, naked, and in a hot tub. So basically making out with right now. 

“Reallies? You wants to has a competiktions to finds out who ams the better?” Skwisgaar said, leaning closer to Nathan with telling eyes, his smirk widening and eyes sparkling with… was that desire? And Nathan was totally buying it, seeing it as the epitome of straight and manly, and took him up on the offer. 

Meanwhile, Pickles was chuckling and muttering, “God, this is so gay,” under his breath, still sipping at that fruity drink. Murderface could only look on with horrified eyes, but if you looked close enough, you’d see the interest and mild arousal. Toki was only looking on with a dorky smile, a little bit too wasted to comprehend what was going on. 

Then, Skwisgaar closed the gap between them, his lips mouthing at Nathan’s and sucking on his lower lip, head angled and hands reaching out to curl around his broad shoulder. Nathan reciprocated almost immediately, feeling his lip getting sucked and roughly stuck his tongue out, licking the other man across his lips and smirking with an open mouth. As the kiss continued to get more passionate, Skwisgaar felt himself pressed against the wall of the hot tub, the coldness a stark contrast from how heated and foggy the air was around him. 

He moaned slightly, the sound muffled, as he pressed himself further against Nathan, suddenly recalling that they were both naked, and ignoring the fact that other people surrounded them. The mood was just too good, what with the mostly dark room, lighted faintly with sparse candles, the drunken band mates of theirs a mixture between chuckling fondly and being downright horrified, the hotness of the hot tub and the slosh of the water at every movement. And the stuffy air that tasted like mist whenever Skwisgaar and Nathan would part for a mere second only to gasp in air and dive right back in, their movements becoming slightly desperate as they forgot about their true reasoning behind doing this and just immersing themselves in the other talented kisser time after time after time. They were both sure, somewhere deep inside, that they had spent too much time doing this, but neither took note of it. It was becoming so good, so luxuriously deep and tantalizingly quick-paced, and Skwisgaar knew that his hair was becoming frizzy from his own sweat that dripped down the back of his neck, but he honestly couldn’t say he had ever had such a satisfying kiss before in his life, and he couldn’t find it in himself to part for more than a second. It was just… the way Nathan practically devoured him, his actions crudely dominant and harsh, it wasn’t something that Skwisgaar was used to, not at all. It made him feel excitement bubble deep in his belly, and it also made him feel nervous at the same time. It was a sick combination.

“….” Skwisgaar let out a breathy sigh once they finally parted, his expression mostly sated yet lusting for more, just a little bit more. And, not to his surprise, Nathan had a similar expression on his face as well, his lips swollen and cheeks brightly red. It was a little bit satisfying to see the other man look as hot and bothered as he felt. Suddenly, there was a timed coughed, and both men looked over to see Pickles giving them tricky looks. 

“So…. Who’s better?” he asked, chuckling a bit after asking, figuring he knew how this was gonna end. 

“He is.”

“He ams.”

Both the men in question gave each other interested looks, Skwisgaar’s of shock and Nathan’s of surprised delight, and then went back into it, Skwisgaar’s hands trailing down Nathan’s front to grope at his cock. And after it all, Murderface would never admit to the boner he had for the entirety of the scene.


	3. Magnus/Toki: Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Written May 26, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Magnus/Toki  
> Word Count: 953  
> Warnings: RAPE/NON-CON, Conflicting Emotions, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Blood, Creampie, Guilty Pleasure
> 
> Summary: Magnus makes good use of his prisoner.

His bubblegum lips were parted in sweet, sticky arousal. Mouth dripping in a mixture of spit and blood, bright blood that dribbled pink from being mixed with vodka, Toki moaned wantonly, his jaw trembling and head angling back to kiss the older man. He really shouldn’t be so turned on from someone who stabbed him in the chest, literally. The wound was fresh, too, still healing. Toki knew that his band mates would rescue him, or at least Charles would, but falling prey to Magnus’ advances was something that he lacked control over. It was a mixture of lingering friendship, newfound hatred and betrayal, and even newer attraction. There was something distinctly erotic about the older man, his poise and almost cool way of holding himself was something Toki had found admirable and attractive since the day they met at Rockarooni. All that aside, he was just a total douche bag now, according to Toki. 

“How does it feel?” Magnus asked, his good eye staring down at Toki’s distinctly obvious erection between his legs. He had fed Toki some vodka through his own mouth earlier, and the alcohol quickly affected Toki, making his face flush and eyes become hazy and unfocused. Toki shrugged his shoulders, a hand reaching down to scratch at his thigh. Magnus growled at the unclear response, pushing Toki down onto his back and ravishing his neck. Toki sighed, shifting his head to give Magnus more skin to lick and bite. Quickly becoming bored, Magnus pushed his hands under and up Toki’s shirt, pushing the clothing to Toki’s chin, exposing his pert nipples, toned chest, and stomach. Magnus licked his lips, licking along the gap between Toki’s boobs before sucking harshly on his nipples, eliciting a low grunt followed by a high moan. Magnus smirked, a hand reaching around to fondle Toki’s crotch through his jeans, pleased with the level of hardness he was currently at. 

“Magnus,” Toki whimpered, one of his hands resting above his eyes, blocking his vision and creating a rather cute image, especially with the visible hard-on that was only concealed by his pants. Magnus smiled fondly at the boy, a hand reaching down to unbutton his pants and pull out his cock, satisfied with the shade of red his tip was and the fine dribbles of pre-cum that dripped from him. 

Pushing his pants down the rest of the way, Magnus lifted Toki’s hips up and ordered him to sit up and get in the position, he knew which one. After a few seconds of awkward shuffling, Toki was properly in the doggy style position, his knees spread and ass high in the air. Magnus groaned at the image, his eyes raking over the choice specimen before him. 

After a few seconds of just looking at the boy, Magnus pushed Toki’s hips down to level and unzipped his pants, pulling out his aching dick and positioning it before Toki’s pretty pink asshole. He then pushed with all of his might, sliding his dick roughly into the unprepared ass, making Toki scream in pain. Magnus could faintly feel a trickle of blood drip around his dick, but ignored it. Besides, Toki didn’t deserve preparation, as he was a prisoner. Next, Magnus began moving roughly, both hands wrapped around Toki’s hips, moving the boy in time with his thrusts for his personal optimal pleasure. If Toki got off to it, then good for him. Magnus really could care less if Toki was feeling good or not right now, considering how fantastic his ass felt wrapped around him. 

Meanwhile Toki was struggling to accept the fact that being so mercilessly pounded was actually making his peepee go up. And not just go up, but tremble and throb in delight. Toki was starting to near his orgasm, but the gross old man groans from behind him were keeping him from reaching his peak. Which was a pretty good thing, since Magnus appeared to be pretty fucking far from cumming himself. If Toki could time their orgasms together then it’s possibly that Magnus won’t even notice that Toki came at all. With those thoughts in mind, Toki forcefully willed back his orgasm, gripping the bed sheets below him and squeezing his eyes shut. 

After a few minutes, Magnus found his own special spot, or the way Toki’s ass would rub him just right, in just the right level of tightness and speed. At this time, Magnus knew he would orgasm soon. Toki groaned happily at the sudden increase in thrusts and desperate old man cries from behind him. This could only mean that Magnus would finish soon, and just in time, considering how uncomfortable it was getting for Toki to hold back. But, he relaxed too soon, and Toki came heartily much before Magus. Magnus chuckled a little bit, surprised at the open way Toki screamed and shook. The way Toki squeezed his ass while coming was what drove Magnus to spilling his hot cum into Toki and making Toki almost gag from the disgusting feeling. 

At least it was over though, and Toki merely flopped on his side as Magnus caught his breath and pulled out, wiping off on the bed and tucking himself back in. Toki let out a sigh, pushing a hand through his hair as he gazed ashamedly at Magnus. Magnus smiled at him, a bit sadistically, before slapping his thigh in a decently kind way. He then walked out as if nothing had ever happened, and Toki sighed as he began the process of cleaning himself up, even if it would probably happen again tomorrow, or the next day. He still wanted to be as sanitary as possible. Magnus cum was kind of gross, anyway.


	4. Nathan/Toki: Sugar Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Written February 18, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Nathan/Toki  
> Word Count: 457  
> Warnings: No Sex, Kissing, Romantic Love, Fluffy
> 
> Summary: Nathan finds that kissing Toki gives him headaches.

Maybe it was because his lips tasted like candy.

It wasn’t a subtle flavor, it wasn’t sexy, or romantic, or sweet- but it instead pounded you in the back of the skull just from licking the man’s lips. It almost burned his mouth with the artificial sugary flavor every time he kissed him.

Nathan gently pressed his fingers into the other man’s scalp, stroking his hair and sighing blissfully in a way that was similar to the pained cry of a dying walrus. But Toki didn’t mind the big, grumbling man roughly running his fingers through his hair in a way that was probably meant to be gentle. Actually, one could say Toki quite enjoyed the feeling. It was almost relaxing in its own familiar way. 

Pushing his palms against Nathan’s cheeks, Toki pinched the decent amount of fat there before cradling the big man’s face in a way that many would see as doting or loving, but Nathan saw it as sexy and sweet. It meant that Toki was feeling especially touchy that day, and that he probably wanted to do all sorts of cute shit, or wanted to have sex like there was no tomorrow. Nathan felt his cheeks heat up in a way that rarely happened much since he was a little boy with his first elementary crush. Those pale, sweet eyes were half-lidded in adoration for him, and him alone. There was no way that Nathan would ever be able to stop himself from getting completely flustered around Toki when he was like this.

Leaning forward and locking lips with the other man was a dangerous task, and Nathan almost winced as he was bombarded with the intense sugary essence that was Toki’s mouth. But he trekked on, a veteran in this war against the senses, and gently caressed Toki’s hair where his fingers were still tangled in. But, feeling the sloppy lips mouth back against his, the flavor was worth it a thousand times over, and Nathan almost regretted ever thinking that it wasn’t. Parting from the brunet with dorkishly pink-tinted cheeks, Nathan cracked the smallest of small smiles and nuzzled against the soft cheeks of his lover.

His playground eyes crinkled in laughter, Toki leaned against the touch and smiled joyously. It wasn’t every day that Nathan expressed happiness like that, his lips showing off old smile wrinkles and eyes portraying the sentiment far more vividly. The eye part, yes, but there were far too little people that knew of Nathan’s cute little smile wrinkles, and Toki was way too okay with that. 

Feeling the man against him sigh happily, Toki smiled and gently pet his shiny black hair. What would tonight lead to, he wondered. Perhaps it didn’t even matter.


	5. Pickles/Tony: Whisky and Sweat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Written May 12, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Tony/Pickles  
> Word Count: 600  
> Warnings: Alcohol, Minor Exhibitionism, Wet Sex, Frotting/Dry Humping, Absurdly Glam Rock
> 
> Summary: Pickles and Tony have a little playful fun.

Pickles’ lips were cherry candy, like some horrible flavored lip-gloss that a 7-year-old girl would use, and sparkled with spit and glitter when Tony parted from them. The luscious sound of Poison blaring from the radio, their running makeup, and horribly tight clothes strewn about the area were the background to Tony’s Tuesday night. They were on tour currently, and the bus was cramped and gross, but it was still pretty fun to watch Candy and Snizzy roll in their bunks in discomfort whenever Pickles and Tony would decide to fuck away their afternoons, nights, or sometimes mornings. And it might’ve been Tuesday, but does it really matter anymore? 

Groaning and shifting his hips, Tony began harshly thrusting into the tight, tight crotch of Pickles’ pants, feeling the wonderful friction of his fly against his aching cock. The wild redhead beneath him sighed happily, his fingers curling around a bottle of Jack Daniels and carefully taking a swig while lying down. Naturally, the sticky substance dribbled across his chin as well, but in a decidedly attractive manner, his pink tongue darting out to mop up the excess. Tony watched the display with hooded eyes, his lips parted in labored breathing. 

“You, uh, wanna take your pants off?” Tony asked, his hips rocking against Pickles’ once more before standing up and ripping his hat off and tossing it to the side, his legs shaking slightly as he walked around the bus. Pickles quickly responded affirmatively, reaching down and lifting his hips up to shimmy his ripped leather pants off. Meanwhile, Tony dug around booze bottles and dirty clothes, trying to locate at least one bottle of lube. He was just using one last night, and honestly had no idea how it could’ve disappeared like that. 

After what felt like eons, he found a bottle, and offhandedly noticed that a Cinderella song was now reverberating throughout the bus. Quickly pushing off his own pants and underpants, he crawled back on top of Pickles’ now nude (as he chose to free-ball on a daily basis) hips. Pouring an excessive amount of lube onto his own cock and Pickles’, Tony gently rocked himself forward and rutted against Pickles’ cock. Pickles moaned heartily, taking another wet sip of his Jack Daniels before gripping strands of Tony’s thick black hair with his free hand and smushing their lips together. Tony was immediately overpowered by the strong essence of whisky and faintly of cherry candy, tonguing his attractive friend passionately as he roughly grinded against Pickles’ luxuriously hard dick. 

Finding himself reaching almost the height of his pleasure, Pickles once again grabbed the bottle of whisky before mischievously pouring a large sum of the bottle onto his chest, feeling the sticky liquid slide across his skin with every push of his hips against Tony’s. Tony let out a high keen, laying his chest down on top of Pickles’ and relishing in the wet slickness. Both men became absolutely enamored with the smell of sweet, sticky whisky and sweat and sex, the noisy sounds of rock softly playing, and the absolutely fantastic friction between their bodies. Pickles came first, gasping and gripping Tony's shoulders for strength his back arched. Tony came next, rutting against the whisky and lube that pooled into the hollow of Pickles' hips, the semen only adding to the literal puddle of various liquids that had accumulated on their bodies and the bed. 

“Mm, so how was it?” Pickles asked gruffly, his voice low from the sweet sex and orgasm and body slightly trembling. Tony still lay across his body in a pile of goo, his chest shaking with every breath. Sitting up and looking Pickles in the eye with a knowing smile on his face, Tony responded.

“You know I like it wet.”


	6. Skwisgaar/Pickles: Fancy Beer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Written May 27, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Skwisgaar/Pickles  
> Word Count: 937  
> Warnings: Alcohol, Oral Sex, Anal Rimming, Intercrural Sex (thigh fucking)
> 
> Summary: Skwisgaar and Pickles enjoy some fancy beer.

“Ahh, fucks, Pickle,” Skwisgaar moaned out heartily, his lips dripping with sticky, too expensive beer that tasted like piss but made him feel like a pompous, rich bitch. Pickles sat on his knees on the floor before Skwisgaar, his legs horribly uncomfortable in that position, but it was worth it to feel those long fingers curl in his dreadlocks and vulgar groans flood from Skwisgaar’s mouth. He was also kinda glad that Skwisgaar had stopped spouting all his terrible dirty talk from earlier; he just wasn’t the sex god that everyone made him out to be. And his dirty talk was pretty fucking embarrassing. 

“Ah, I ams, I ams… you needs to stops,” Skwisgaar said urgently, cursing in Swedish and pushing Pickles’ head back ungracefully. He wouldn’t allow himself to get that turned on from some little drummer boy. Some stupid, sexy, drummer boy with those little eyebrow piercings that glinted like diamonds and shifted when Pickles scrunched his eyebrows up in concentration. Skwisgaar bit his lower lip in arousal, staring at Pickles’ current, confused expression, his lips parted with spit smeared across his chin. 

Skwisgaar groaned, standing up from the chair (and making his dick bounce), before kneeing Pickles on the chest so that he fell forward onto his back. Pickles, confused and slightly aroused, stared up at Skwisgaar with wide eyes as he watched Skwisgaar straddle his waist and capture his lips with his own. Pickles could taste the shitty beer on Skwisgaar’s tongue and he groaned in annoyance, wishing the brat would drink something better than that. He gently bit Skwisgaar’s lip as they parted and Skwisgaar’s face contorted in slight pain but he quickly relapsed, smirking a bit before smashing Pickles’ cheeks together so that his lips were in an involuntary duck face. 

“You thinks you cans do dat, huh? Nopes! Don’ts!” Skwisgaar said before standing up from his previous straddling position and walking back a little, sitting back down on his knees. He did this so that he could grab Pickles’ legs easily and throw them over his shoulders, with Pickles’ ass and balls right in front of his mouth. It would make rimming the redhead that much simpler. Pickles sighed happily, glad to see that Skwisgaar’s idea of punishment involved tortuous levels of pleasure. Or at least that’s what he hoped their positions implied. 

Luckily for them both, Skwisgaar craned his neck down to get a good swipe with his tongue down on Pickles’ asshole. Pickles sighed in delight, his lips parted and eyes half-lidded as he watched Skwisgaar’s skilled tongue taste him. Half smiling, Pickles sighed at the lavishing feeling. That sweet, sticky tongue stroking and prodding him at such a deliciously sensitive area that many barely touched at all, and those talented hands gripping his hips and pressing him against the others’ body were what drove Pickles to pleasurable insanity. The feeling of that sweet, blonde babe’s tongue prodding into his ass was what milked out the naughty, schoolgirl cries from the aging rocker currently sprawled on his back with his ass in the air. 

To say that Skwisgaar wasn’t completely and utterly aroused by Pickles’ noises would be a horrible lie, because he was dripping with pre-cum, his cock red and twitching in delight. He would soon have to take care of himself, but pleasuring others was something that always turned Skwisgaar on. He would indulge himself for a little bit longer. 

Pickles, however, was becoming just a little bit too aroused, his cock dripping liquids down his body and hands curling into fists at his sides. He was tempted to just finish himself off but he wanted to see how far he could go before Skwisgaar started working on his front as well. It really wasn’t that much longer until Skwisgaar noticed how close Pickles was, and he shifted his position slightly to free a hand, wrapping it around Pickles’ cock and jacking him off in time with the pumps of his tongue. Pickles cried out in bliss, screwing his eyes shut and aimlessly thrusting his hips to try to will out the orgasm he knew was fast approaching. 

Inwardly chuckling in sadistic delight, Skwisgaar removed his hand from Pickles’ crotch and instead starting pressing hard circles into the extremely sensitive skin between his balls and asshole, hoping that Pickles wouldn’t do anything and instead squirt cum on his own face. Luckily, Pickles was too far gone to give a shit, and a few seconds later he squirted cum messily onto his chest and face. 

Skwisgaar patiently milked him before scooting backwards and repositioning him and Pickles a little bit, so that his uncomfortably hard dick was squished between Pickles’ thighs. Gripping his hands tightly around the outer parts of Pickles’ thighs, Skwisgaar began quickly thrusting, sighing erotically and staring hotly at Pickles’ still panting form below him. Pickles smirked at him saucily, one hand carding through his dreadlocks and another toying with one of his nipples, his chest lightly coated in sweat and cum. Skwisgaar grunted, eyes locked on Pickles’ hands as he played with his body, before shutting his eyes and cumming hard, squirting sticky cum onto Pickles’ already cum covered torso. He would definitely have to shower after this. 

Skwisgaar then let go of Pickles’ legs, getting up and lying down next to Pickles on the floor. They would probably remain in that position for the next hour, just laying there and catching their breaths. Maybe even drink some of Skwisgaar’s fancy beer that tasted like cat pee and talk about life. But yeah, for right now they’d just lay there. Showers be damned.


	7. Murderface/Klokateer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK THINGS ARE GETTING A LITTLE WEIRD. Please read the warnings before reading! 
> 
> (Written December 19, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Murderface/Klokateer  
> Word Count: 744  
> Warnings: WATERSPORTS!, Golden Shower, Piss Drinking, Wetting Self, Pee Fetish, Dominance and Submission
> 
> Summary: Murderface has a secret hobby.

He had one big secret that he kept from the rest of the band. It wasn’t something he would usually go on about…. It was dirty, and not in a typically sexy kind of dirty. William Murderface had a watersports fetish, which could be easily accepted considering his obsession with piss… but that wasn’t what he kept from the guys. It started off as a rude thing, really. Murderface was mad at something that day and feeling a little horny, and that particular Klokateer was being absurdly kind to him. So, he pulled down his pants and pissed on the other guy’s hood-covered face, his mouth forming a sadistically round shape and eyes squinting from a pleasure-induced haze. It was erotic, blantant, and so, so undeniably wrong and mean and fucked up… and he loved it. They continued doing this, Murderface demanded it for the pleasure, simply, and he had his doubts, but he had chosen just the perfect Klokateer to start doing this to, because the man never once questioned his motives or even when he got really, really hard from the sight. It was, truly, a stroke of good luck, something Murderface wasn’t really used to. 

He felt his palms sweat as his favorite Klokateer came marching in, his stride confidant and open, and yet he sensed the mood and refrained from speaking. He knew his place, and he knew that what he was there for today wasn’t to fetch the man a glass of water or send off some package order. No, his job today, like every Thursday, was to get on his knees and get completely and utterly defiled by Murderface’s pee. What he wasn’t expecting, however, was for Murderface himself to suddenly get on his knees and make an angrily embarrassed expression. 

“Today… let’sch schwitch,” he grumbled, looking down at his chubby thighs as he awaited a negative reaction. But instead of that, he instead got a brief nod and a declaration of “Anything you wish, sire,” and that was that. Hearing a zipper get tugged down, Murderface looked up, and gazed at the Klokateer as he used his meaty arms and hands to grip his cock, waiting for the cue to continue. At that, Murderface nodded his head and opened his mouth wide, closing his eyes. 

And then, suddenly and intensely, piss was flooding over his entire being. There was urine in his hair and over his face and in his mouth, dripping down his throat. It covered his entire body, encasing it in a foul-smelling layer of yellow heaven. It felt so good, honestly, and Murderface just couldn’t help himself anymore, and began pissing all in his shorts, the yellow liquid quickly seeping through his pants and streaming out into a growing puddle, defiling the man even more. He felt helpless and wrong and disgusting in all the best ways, and there was piss covering his entire body and still streaming out onto him. God, he was getting harder and harder and… he took a deep breath and swallowed some piss, opening his eyes when he realized that he had been moaning like a fucking dog in heat, and watched as the Klokateer shook himself off and then tucked himself back in, standing at attention as he looked down at the man he was supposed to be working for. Murderface took a shaky inhale and looked down at himself, seeing completely soaked through clothes and piss still streaming out of his shorts. Fuck, he really had to pee before all of this… and now it was all coming out, making the man even more embarrassed. The Klokateer was just… staring at him. Staring at his boss as he fucking pissed himself. Murderface moaned then, arching his head back to gaze at the ceiling as he finally stopped peeing, his head pulsing with pleasure and mind going positively blank. When he eventually got enough of his senses back to move, he leaned back down, his hands smacking down against the wet ground and feeling the pee there splash against him. He didn’t even care, if anything, it just added to the pleasure. Sighing brokenly, Murderface stood up and groaned at the feeling of his still-present erection, glaring affectionately at the obedient Klokateer. 

“Clean thisch messch up,” he ordered, walking away completely piss-covered to the showers, kinda hoping someone would find him like this on his way there. As he approached the door, the Klokateer respectfully replied.

“Yes, sire.”


	8. Toki/Fat Boy: Domestic Abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING
> 
> Alright, so this was was never intended to see the light of day. I passed this one around with my friends and we laughed about how gross and disturbing it was. Some of the most disgusting and wrong themes all mushed into one bastard of a fanfic. Hope there's someone out there that appreciates this (lol). 
> 
> (Written June 24, 2013)
> 
> Pairing: Toki/Their Adopted Fat Kid  
> Word Count: 1,757  
> Warnings: Daddy Kink, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Bad Hygiene, Manipulation, Sadism, Food Play, Oral Sex, Paizuri (Titty Fucking), Abuse, Bullying, Stupid/Disabled Character, Disgusting, SERIOUSLY DISGUSTING
> 
> Summary: Toki uses his adopted son as a toy to release his own sexual urges... it's not like he can really say no, the boy never speaks.

The blackened sky radiated a subtle, ominous mood that absorbed every soul that stepped outside. The yard wolves lay dormant in the woods, their job done for the day and taking a light rest, waiting patiently for any intruders. Lying amongst the stars and the full moon was a boy, his shirt ripped and in various pieces in the yard. He had been adopted not too long ago, and had already been abandoned in the cold, harsh outdoors where he’d spend nearly the rest of his life. His five fathers were cruel and uncaring, and had absolutely no idea how to raise a child. Thus, he was out here… although he would never be aware of any of these facts. The boy was mentally not present, but this is also another thing he would never be aware of. 

The rolls of fat that dribbled over his pants shook like Jell-O as the shirtless fat boy lay on the ground on his back, his unholy man boobs sinking down his body. The chains tying his hands together strained with every jolt the boy made, with every yank of his arms as he tried to break free. He once was an obedient dog, who never tried to escape his chains, but he was starting to miss the itch of running wild, and thusly began to struggle. Standing beside the large heap of lard was Toki, his eyes squinted and glinting pure, sadistic glee at the fruitless struggle of the fat pile of shit. The Norwegian man doubted that the obese little boy knew he was even standing there near him, and felt slightly insulted. He demanded his presence be known.

“Ay you, fatties,” Toki said sharply, punctuating his sentence with spitting onto the boy’s grotesque face. The boy jolted in shock, wiggling about in a decidedly useless manner before stopping altogether, perhaps noticing Toki for the first time. Or maybe he was just being completely stupid, as per usual. 

“Yes, good littles boy. I ams wantinks you to goes on your knees,” Toki said, kicking the boy’s stomach for good measure. The kid opened his mouth and closed it like a fish out of water, before doing something completely wrong: nothing. Toki fumed, feeling his face heat in embarrassed rage as he angrily kicked the boy, harder this time, right in the groin. Retracting into himself, the fat boy whined like a puppy before rolling over, his back now facing away from Toki. 

“Is you deaf? Get on dems knees!“ Toki snarled, eyeing the boy carefully as he slowly but surely got up on his knees, his legs splayed and shirtless chest visibly heaving at the effort. Toki smirked a little, happy that his ego wasn’t too horribly wounded and began undoing his pants, pushing them down until his very limp dick was displayed. The fat boy sniffed the air before stopping cold, looking up at the penis above him before gaping his mouth and excreting a cold sweat that dampened his scalp and underarms. 

Despite his typical lack of conscious thought, the kid knew what was going on. He could sense the air, he could feel the horrible and unforgiving aura that radiated from his “father” and he knew that whatever was coming to him was going to be painful and disturbing. 

“Good, now does your daddy a favors,” Toki said, softly stroking the underside of his dick, the calluses on the tips of his fingers rubbing him in a rough but familiar way, the length of his penis slightly growing at the vision in front of him. Such utter submission, such complete willingness, still tinged with sweat-inducing fear, was what the person below him emitted, his knees wobbling in fear and mouth drooling slightly. 

Walking forward a little bit, Toki grabbed his dick loosely and then flicked it against the boy’s face, the fat jiggling from the unexpected force. Toki moaned, his voice low and cracking slightly, baby blue eyes open and attentive as he watched the reaction of the kid below him. The boy’s face was disgusting and pimpled and oozing fat but damn if it wasn’t a delicious feeling to hit someone so lewdly. Said boy whimpered in pain, gnawing on his lower lip slightly as he felt the welt beginning to form on his cheek. 

“Ahh, that felt goods, doesn’t it?” Toki asked, staring down at the boy chewing on his lower lip, before gripping his cock and slapping the boy across the face with it again. Breathing out in arousal, Toki repeated the action several more times until he noticed that the boy was starting to actually cry, the thin lines of tears dripping down his face quietly. Toki laughed before stopping, running a hand down his dick before wincing, realizing that he was in dire need of some lubricant. Luckily, he had come prepared. Although, not with what one would usually use in this situation. 

The sound of the chocolate syrup bottle squirting messily filled the otherwise still air, the noise almost disgusting as the fat boy looked up, tears still present in his eyes. He could smell the artificial sweet, delicious liquid coming from somewhere near him, and if he could, he would find the source and drink the entire bottle. Luckily, he would do so, but not in the way he was imagining. 

Mainly because a quarter of the bottle was already squeezed on Toki’s cock. 

Letting out an extravagant moan, Toki smiled to himself as he began heartily jacking himself off, his fingers expertly curling around his shaft and hitting all of his sensitive spots at the same time. The chocolate syrup was proving to be a rather useful lubricant, and it wouldn’t really sting unless it got in his slit, so he stayed away from the head of his penis as much as he could. He didn’t want to get an infection or anything. Gazing down at the confused face below him, Toki smirked to himself before stopping, watching as the fat boy licked his lips and started making grabby hands at Toki’s chocolate covered shaft.

“Ooh, so you wants this, eh?” Toki said, jerking himself once more before stepping forward, smushing his cock against the tubby face of his adoptive son. Whimpering, the boy began hurriedly lapping at the muddled chocolate/pre-cum mixture that coated Toki’s penis like a silk sheet, much to Toki’s immediate approval.

“It’s like yous a dog… hot,” Toki said, biting his lower lip, as the fat boy began sucking, his actions becoming desperate as the chocolate began going away. Eventually, all the chocolate was cleaned from Toki, and the fat boy whimpered as he began licking the slit of Toki’s penis in hopes that more would come out from there. Something did come out from there, but it wasn’t chocolate. 

“Ahh, looks at dat. Drink alls of Daddy’s cum,” Toki said back, grinning to himself as he sighed blissfully in the post-orgasm bliss. The kid began consuming the cum heartily, his mind not yet fully comprehending the flavor- but when it hit him, it hit him hard. This was not white chocolate sauce, but some tartly flavored something that was an odd consistency and dripping down his chin. But, with much prodding from Toki’s foot, he did end up lapping up every drop, albeit with a foul expression on his grotesque face. 

Staring down at the boys display, Toki once again gripped his cock and began languidly touching himself. He was still pretty hard, and wanted to milk the situation for all it was worth. His sadistic mood was at its peak, and watching the boy sourly lick Toki’s cum off his hands and chin was seriously turning him on. Kicking the boy roughly in the chest, Toki watched him topple over onto his back and wiggle around confusedly. The guitarist’s attention was immediately drawn to his jiggling boobs, the girth appetizing. He could surely shove his cock between those luscious man boobs and fuck the living shit out of himself. Yummy.

Properly taking off his pants and throwing them to the ground, Toki quickly straddled the fat boy and savored the oddly sensual feeling of fat rippling below his tense thighs and under his toned ass. The boy below him stopped resisting and instead stayed frozen on the spot, most likely confused. Toki then grabbed each of the boy’s breasts, roughly smashing them together around his dick and experimentally thrusting between them. Good, but definitely could use some lube. Grabbing the bottle of chocolate syrup from before and pouring at least half of the remaining bottle onto his cock and all over the boy’s chest. Naturally, the fat boy groaned and desperately tried to lick at the chocolate so Toki took it upon himself to pour some of the syrup onto the kid’s face and into his needy mouth. 

Positioning himself again, Toki began harshly fucking the fat boy’s tits, his mouth open in sporadic moans and hips jolting with electric arousal. Honestly, if he kept this pace up for much more, he would cum again. And it really didn’t matter that he would be cumming very early on. There was just something so lovely about the way it felt with two soft titties around your cock. 

Rocking his hips back once more, Toki sighed blissfully before squirting hot cum onto the chins of the boy below him. Opening eyes that he didn’t realize he shut, Toki stared at the confused boy below him before standing up and walking towards his pants with shaky legs. 

“Sir,” a voice from behind Toki said, making the brunet jump in shock. Turning around in a flip of embarrassment, Toki looked at whoever decided to interrupt him. Greeted by the pleasantly anonymous face of a Klokateer, Toki sighed in relief. Turning back around and picking up his pants, only to throw them over his shoulder, Toki listened as the Klokateer talked behind him. 

“Sir, would you like me to start a bath up for you? And should I get someone to clean up your son as well?” the Klokateer said, his voice not missing a beat and perfectly calm, which is something Toki could seriously appreciate.

“No, don’t cleanse him, but starts me a bubblies bath,” Toki said, walking towards the Klokateer, gripping him by the bottom of his hood and staring into his eye-slots menacingly.

“And don’t you DARES to tells anyone elses about whats you ams see here,” Toki said, releasing the Klokateer and walking away without waiting for a response.

“Of course, master.”


End file.
